When the Facility Director called up Nightmare from his usual post and to his office, Nightmare was expecting some terrible news, a mission, a directive, or something else to be thrown at him. Instead, he walks inside of his boss’ office… to find a measly looking Medic standing next to his boss

“This is our Pocket Medic, and it will be your job they don’t get hurt or injured at all. I trust you enough to take care of them.” The Facility Director explains to Nightmare, gesturing towards the small figure next to them. A pocket sized medic, perfect for the name.

Nightmare… did not look amused. He would have to be protecting what is essentially a child? This wouldn’t be very fun.

Hours later

Nightmare stands to the side of his charge, the new Pocket Medic, as the much smaller figure next to him mops the floor. Despite how much he didn’t want to do his job, he would still follow the director’s orders.

As the two of them stood there, one of the patients throw a Molotov in their direction, aiming for the small but not so defenseless pocket medic. Nightmare, with his quick thinking, quickly steps in front of the medic and uses his riot shield to block the Molotov. As he was boxing the patient up, something clicked within him, something urging him to do more than the base duty of protecting this pocket medic